


Drink, Drank, Drunk

by rabidsamfan



Category: Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Drunken sex, Humor, M/M, Prompt Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-09-16
Updated: 2011-09-16
Packaged: 2017-10-23 19:33:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 908
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/254068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rabidsamfan/pseuds/rabidsamfan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Holmes and Watson are horny and drunk.  Very horny.  Very <i>very</i> drunk.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a prompt over [here](http://sherlockkink.livejournal.com/1594.html?thread=6259770#t6259770) that I just couldn't resist.

Where did it go?" Sherlock Holmes peered down the length of his biographer's body in search of the protrusion that had been there half a bottle of whisky ago.

"'S here," Watson reassured him, reaching down to waggle the flaccid bit of flesh. "See?"

"Need to make it..." Holmes fumbled for the word, waving his hands in descriptive but cryptic gyrations. "Bigger."

Watson collapsed against him, giggling madly. "Get... your... magnifying glass," he got out, and then began snogging Holmes's neck rather sloppily.

"Mine's fine," Holmes protested. He took Watson's hand and placed it on his tumescent prick. "See?"

"Oh." Watson considered for a moment and then went to his knees. "Let me 'vestigate some more." He stuck out his tongue and licked the shiny glans like a child with a lollipop and then leaned back, still making his tongue go up and down. "'Hey," he observed, his eyes crossed, "I cath thee bmy tugg."

"Stop squeezin' it so hard!" Holmes protested, pulling Watson's hand off of his cock with an air of alarm. "It'll 'splode!"

Watson considered this. "Thass what we wan', izznt it?"

"But not THERE. Want it in your arsehole first."

"Mmm." Watson went to his hands and knees and turned around on the carpet, waving said arsehole in a manner that the remaining functioning braincells in his head no doubt thought was enticing for the brief moment before they got distracted again. "Hey, there's the bottle!"

"That's the empty one," Holmes said, carefully lowering himself to his own knees. "Stop spinning it, 's making the room go round."

"Where's the full one then?" Watson started to crawl away and Holmes took hold of his hips to stop him.

"Wait! I am fucking you!"

"No you're not. Oh. Ouch!"

"Sorry, missed the hole. Hold still."

" _Ow!_ What happened to onefingertwofingerthreefinger fuck?" Watson shook free and pulled himself up to the desk and began to go through drawers. "Bloody genius always forgettin' the vaseline." He found a jar and studied it until he remembered how to open the lid, then took a hefty dollop onto three of his fingers. "Jus' wait."

Holmes had slumped into a sitting position, and now he watched with his elbow propped on his knee and his chin propped on his hand as Watson held up his balls and prick with one hand so as to shove the greasy salve into his opening with the other. "You're leavin' clues," he said, when a goodly portion of the vaseline escaped onto the chair the carpet and small nearby objects. "Mrs. Hudson's gonna know."

"Mrs. Hudson likes it." Watson said. "She lissens from th' keyhole."

A clatter of something falling outside the door confirmed this thesis.

"S'Okay, Mrs Hudson," shouted Holmes as the footsteps started to patter down the stairs. "You can watch if you want!"

Watson froze and stared at Holmes. "You wan' her to _watch_?"

"Why not? I like an audience. And it's going to be A MAGNIFICENT PERFORMANCE!" Holmes shouted.

"Not sure I wan' her t' watch," Watson protested. "Not when I'm being the lady."

"And not the ladies' man?" Holmes sniggered. "You can fuck _her_ after I fuck _you_ and then I can watch." He got to unsteady feet and went to open the door. "Mrs. Hudson! Oh, damn, she ran away."

"Maybe nex' time," Watson sighed, and slid back down to the floor and his hands and knees. "C'mon, all ready now."

Holmes, who had been trying to remember whether or not he'd had any evidence of the landlady's tendency toward voyeurism before this, turned to look at the object of his affections and felt a rush of emotion – or at least lust – increase his heart rate.

"My dear Watson," he said in fulsome tones, as he tripped over the head of the zebra skin rug on the way to his goal. "My dear DEAR Watson!"


	2. Addendum

The shouts of "More!" and "Harder!" had been supplanted in time by a rendition in two voices of an exceedingly sentimental music hall ballad. That faded in its turn into a mixed chorus of snores, which finally signalled it safe for Mrs. Henry Hudson to venture back up the stairs to collect her tea tray. Holmes had left the door to the sitting room open, she discovered, and temptation – which had been presented to her on numerous occasions over the past several years – finally collided with opportunity.

As quietly as possible, she pushed the door open a bit farther. It was rather disappointing to realize that, due to the fact that the two men had fallen asleep with their heads pillowed on each other's groins in such a way as to obscure the details she had snuck into discover, her imagination was going to continue to have to provide ammunition. On the other hand, if she provided them with sufficient whiskey, perhaps the offer which had been made tonight would be made again.

She rather hoped it might, for she had been a widow a long time, although she would have to find a way to break it off with the fishmonger first. He was a large man in every sense except the most important one, and she didn't want to risk having him take on either of her lodgers in battle. Someone would get hurt. And arrested, no doubt, which she would rather avoid. It wouldn't do to have them in prison, no not at all.

It would spoil all her fun!


End file.
